


Quantum Theory

by orphan_account



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, One Shot, Self-Esteem Issues, Swearing, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "God, you're insufferable."Harrison looks like he's putting some thought into that possibility, then nods. "Yeah," he admits. "I am, but you came to my dorm, didn't you? Must not be that bad."





	Quantum Theory

**Author's Note:**

> This is an addition for my future maxvid fic that won't exactly give depth into side relationships, since it'll focus mainly around Max and David specifically. With that being said, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> The characters depicted are 17, which will change in the near future as I continue the series. Didn't know whether or not to tag it as underage, so I did it just in case¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Science is reliable. It's factually based, capable of providing explanations for the unexplainable with unfiltered evidence. It's truthful.

Because evidence, as he would put it, is one of the most important factors concerning a person's beliefs. Someone cannot successfully push their ideals without proper sources to back up their claims. Religion is a different aspect he's not willing to dive into, but Neil has a particular set of eyes aimed on a person who spreads misinformation purposefully for sport.

This isn't for worshipping a god, which even then isn't reasonable from his atheist perspective. It's for entertainment. That in itself that could be innocent, because everyone needs a quick buck now and then off easily fooling their blind consumers with tacky eye tricks, though this  _person_ – this fucking  _person_ , is an asshole.

He could always dig deeper into Harrison's putrid personality, and those coated friendly words that's specifically designed to dig underneath Neil's skin. Harrison is aware, smart with what he does, and twists everything accordingly with manipulation so skilled that not even Max can sense.

It's infuriating. Very, very fucking infuriating when Neil has the needed amount of information to easily rip his beliefs to shreds, expose him out to be fraud. Though in this world, social capital, regardless of the truth, holds more weight than Neil can stomach. He wasn't built, or better yet, raised to have a skill in creating convenient personas to appeal to people.

It's the reason he only has two friends at the most. One being his step-sister, and another being a thief.

Being told he's exaggerating doesn't deter his research. It fuels it and, in all honesty, he wouldn't be here fretting over someone if it weren't for others' doubtful remarks. Harrison isn't seen as a bad person. He's a sweet kid, one who wants to become a well-known magician that brings smiles and Neil– well, he's Neil. He's intelligent and that's it. If you want something fixed, you come to him. If you want to have a good time, you visit Harrison.

"Magic is real if you believe," Harrison would say, and people would cheer and clap and Neil would grind his teeth together, watching the performer take a bow, throw a rose out into the crowd before disappearing into a field of smoke.

It would always be thrown in his direction, the rose.

The passive aggressive gestures could have a multitude of reasonings behind them. It could be an invitation to settle things, it could be something as simple as a power trip– deriving pleasure off someone who isn't able to do anything but watch, and Neil figures he's not too off track with the assumption.

Truthfully, he would trust Nurf rather than a scamming top-hat wearing degenerate who would rather strip candy from a baby than admit the truth and come to terms with his deceiving lifestyle.

Sometimes he wonders if he's just not understanding Harrison correctly. Capturing the perspective of your enemy is key. Thing is, Neil can't possibly begin to understand. From his experience, it's not like any of their peers believe magic  _isn't_  real, so confessing in privacy wouldn't deter Harrison's reputation. It's selfish, yes, but he's willing to compromise for some satisfaction, even if it never gets out to the public.

But you know businessmen– soon to be man, at least. They don't like being truthful. It's too difficult to set aside pride for one moment, or even acknowledge how toxic their behavior can be for those around them.

That's why Neil fucking despises Harrison. Max says it's due to his superiority complex, him looking for something that isn't there out of enviousness and Neil isn't completely doubting that. Maybe there is some deeply rooted want of control, but at the same time, he could work with something much more simple than embracing that part of himself.

Someone who manipulates the love of others deserves the experience of isolation.

"Yeah, come on," Harrison groans. He's gasping, nails biting into the dresser as he's rocked into it. There's decorative globes and astronomic displays seated atop it, shaking, though there's not enough force to cause them to fall.

Neil doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't need to know. He's comfortable here, behind him, going at his own pace, having Harrison desperately call his name in a manner that's so rewarding. That's something. It's simple, even if it doesn't give answers. It's something.

He presses his chest against his back, sliding a hand to the front of Harrison's hips and taking his dick into his hand. Harrison gasps again, turns his head slightly to catch a small glimpse of Neil's flushed expression. There's nothing passionate to find. Neil can't look him in the eyes, and there's no initial expectation for it. It's not mandatory.

Harrison chokes out a laugh in between a moan, and Neil slams his hips into him for retaliation, making him muffle his scream into the crook of his arm. His legs shake as he comes hard into Neil's hand.

They don't lay together afterwards. Neil spent the extra effort ensuring they avoided the bed. He would fuck on the floor, in the bathroom, basically anywhere else would be an exception. It didn't feel right sitting on Harrison's bed, going that unneeded step of easing tension between them.

He wipes his hands and discards the dirtied tissue into the trash bin. It's evening now, and Neil could finally see the faint glow of stars littered across Harrison's ceiling. There's books of anatomy stacked in a corner, along with cards, flowers, wands, and stuffed animals he assumes are for practice.

He rolls his eyes.

Harrison steps out the bathroom, drying his hair off with a friendly smile. Neil scowls, jerks a thumb behind his shoulder while he collects his keys off the nightstand.

"I'm leaving," he says.

"Wait a sec," Harrison says. Neil pauses at the door, watching Harrison cross the room to pull a book from the drawer of his desk. "Here," he offers, laughing. "I know this isn't your thing, but."

Neil takes the book, looking at him questionably.

"–but I used this book when I first started out.. with.. you know, magic. Butterflies was my turning point before I started using actual animals."

"And I want this because?"

Harrison smiles wryly. Neil feels strange, but it's not a terrible feeling. Confusing, but not terrible. He could ponder all day about what it is, although he figures it's better to let it run its course, smooth itself out naturally than by force.

" _Okay_ ," Neil groans. "I'll take your dumb book, just stop looking at me like that."

"Really? Thank you so much, Neil!"

"God, you're insufferable."

Harrison looks like he's putting some thought into that possibility, then nods. "Yeah," he admits. "I am, but you came to my dorm, didn't you? Must not be that bad."

Neil doesn't respond, unamused with situation. Harrison smiles anyway, swiftly reaching behind his ear before he could properly react, revealing a rose. Neil glares at it, jaw tight.

"Thanks for coming to my shows. Means more than you think, really." Harrison doesn't hand him the flower. If anything, it was a brief display of appreciation before he tosses it to the side, leans up and presses a kiss to Neil's lips apologetically.

Neil eases, presses his lips back, and that's it. Harrison kisses him one last time before he leads him out the door, sharing a smile as he closes it.

Neil stands there for a moment in the hall. His face is hot, hands shaky and mind basically fried for the evening. He holds the book tightly, stomach a mess as he takes his first step.

Once he's four doors down from Harrison's, he starts coughing and curls in, using the wall for support. Something is crawling up his throat, scratching it and making him lightheaded. When it fully reaches, he spits it out into his hands, eyes wide and senses on fire. There's petals falling from his palms as he held a beautiful, red rose.  
  
And really? Neil can't help but laugh.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Funny thing that happened: after my friend proofread this, she interpreted the ending as the hanahaki disease.
> 
> My tumblr blog is bittersweetestvoid!


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